Clint Eastwood’s latest shifts from tourism to heroism, a little too quickly.

and then he joins his buddies in Europe.

Sadler wasn’t even in the forces. You could learn more about the trio of heroes from their Wikipedia pages, which helpfully skip the bit where they all frolic in the Trevi Fountain and then go out for gelato. Ever sat through someone else’s vacation photos? That’s this.

The director has been revisiting stories of American bravery and military prowess every couple of years, with mixed results. The 2006 diptych Flags of Our Fathers and Letters from Iwo Jima was near perfect, while the more recent American Sniper faced charges of simplifying a complex situation, and more generally of jingoism. And I enjoyed Sully despite the fact that the villains were Canada geese.

15:17 to Paris overly simplifies the attack and its aftermath. The terrorist (Ray Corasani) snarls and wears sneakers, but there’s little more to him. Similarly, the train passengers are a background blur — there’s an old guy, a guy who gets shot in the back, and a woman with a dog, this being France.

Eastwood delivers a technically excellent product — even pushing 88, the guy isn’t slowing down, and more power to him — but he needs more nuance in this one. The characters shift from tourism to heroism in a heartbeat, but the movie gives equal weight to both facets of their lives, when it needs to focus on the latter.